


Reason Beyond Doubt

by dreamingthroughwords



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, is the most fitting tag i think?, takes place during chapter 10 when they're going through elysium for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingthroughwords/pseuds/dreamingthroughwords
Summary: Brighid and Mòrag come to terms with Elysium being a wasteland.
Relationships: Kagutsuchi | Brighid/Meleph | Mòrag Ladair
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Reason Beyond Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> all of 2020: does not write barely anything, a bunch of half-finished stories and a failed nanowrimo
> 
> me, as soon as I finish Xenoblade: i cannot stop writing about these two, who am I, many thoughts head full of moraghid
> 
> anyways, in regards to this fic: I wanted to try writing from Brighid's perspective, sort of, I wanted to try and explore my interpretation of their feelings with finding Elysium being nothing. this is based I guess on their body language in the scenes of Elysium, and then very, very loosely what Rex is shown of Brighid and Mòrag's fears just after this. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Brighid thinks it may have been better if Elysium did not exist. If they were just chasing a dream that led to a dead end. 

But the deserted plains, the broken buildings, the rusted metal—Elysium did exist. What they’ve been hoping could save their people was real.

_ Was _ . 

Now, it’s desolate. What they were chasing is in ruins. It’s worse than it not existing at all—this way it’s like they’re seeing their failures in front of them.

Brighid isn’t sure how she feels. She does not want to give up hope—but is it still worth holding onto? Still, she thinks about how it felt, before, looking down at the Cloud Sea, seeing their world from so far away…..

She’s not even sure she wants to write about this in her journal.

It’s silent. As they make their way across the seemingly never-ending plain, it’s only the crunch of footsteps and empty breathing. Rex seems sad, but there’s still that glint of determination present in his eyes. Pyra has that look in her eyes that she did when two fire blades had spoken in Indol. Zeke and Pandoria are the quietest they’ve ever been, though occasionally Pandoria will grab tighter to Zeke’s arm and he’ll reciprocate. Tora and Poppi follow closely to Dromarch and Nia—whose expression is a bit darker than normal, but Brighid can tell she’s trying to hide it. 

Mòrag is next to her as they round up the back, and despite her Driver’s reserved expression, Brighid knows that her thoughts are racing. They’d been the ones who were the most skeptical about the reality of Elysium, yet they still followed. With Mor Ardain’s Titan growing weaker day by day, coming here and finding nothing— Brighid feels a slight sense of failure towards their people. She knows it’s not over yet, but seeing everything like this…it hurts, she’ll admit it. 

And Mòrag has likely come to the same conclusion. Though Mòrag was the one to bring up the idea that someone could possibly be here, towards the sound of the bell, Brighid did not miss how Mòrag crossed her arms and gazed down at the ground the second they’d sighted the barren wasteland that had been their goal. Her Driver feels everything so strongly; too strongly, as if the weight of their success lies solely on her shoulders. Both admirable and exasperating. Through their journey, they’ve both opened up, grew more comfortable with a team…but old habits die hard, is what people say. Looking at Mòrag, she can see the sense of duty to the Emperor, to their people, to all of Alrest: everything that Mòrag feels responsible for is reflected in the amber eyes hidden behind a golden visor.

Brighid has her responsibilities, too, and that is to ensure Mòrag does not bear those burdens alone.

They’re currently keeping the same pace, leading the back of the group, so when Brighid slows down, Mòrag continues to match her speed. Brighid waits, but Mòrag doesn’t notice immediately.

Brighid contemplates for a moment before she decides to take a hold of Mòrag’s hand. They prefer to keep their affections to themselves, only the walls of their private chambers as a witness. The haunting winds and silence make Brighid care about that just a bit less; they’re at the back of the group anyway, who are all lost in their own thoughts, as they are. Brighid is not one to waver often, but here is a rare occasion she needs to steady herself, and the familiar touch of her Driver will do just that. 

Mòrag must have been further in her head than Brighid had initially thought, because Mòrag first sends her a questioning glance before reciprocating Brighid’s grip.

“Is everything alright?” are the first words that Mòrag has spoken since they’d overlooked the hill of Elysium, and of course Mòrag is concerned about Brighid’s well-being first. Interesting choice of words—of course, her immediate reaction to that question would be, “is it?”—they _are_ surrounded by the remnants of the place they’d thought could solve all of their problems. But, they should have known it could not be easy. It never is.

Brighid contemplates a moment, deciding how she actually wants to answer, before simply reciprocating her Driver’s concerns.

“I could ask you the same question,” she responds, because she knows Mòrag needs a push to get whatever she really feels out in the open. 

To be honest, Brighid needs to get her feelings out, too. Usually, they’re reserved for her journal or the late nights in their room when it’s just them in the glow of azure flames and candlelight; but this is different. Brighid is not used to the feeling that this deserted environment is giving her. Brighid feels that she needs to get Mòrag to share her perspective, because Mòrag is smart and determined, and she’ll help Brighid ground herself. Brighid hates feeling helpless more than anything, and Mòrag knows that. 

The others made it a fair bit ahead of them, but they’re still whispering, because it feels wrong to raise one’s voice in a place like this. The only one to seemingly notice that they’ve fallen behind is Nia, who briefly turns around and sends a questioning look before turning back around.

The fabled Elysium, a place that the people of Alrest dreamed of and told tales of it to their kids—actually a barren and deserted hunk of rock that could not grow anything but decaying trees and sand. Neither of them can comprehend anything right now; not a single thought coherent enough to share. But Brighid will still try.

Brighid sends some warmth through their link, a way of saying  _ something  _ without anything at all. 

“Were we foolish?” Mòrag finally speaks; only a whisper. Her face is turned towards what looks to be a caved-in wall. The others are currently examining it, light whispers to each other carried back to them by a light wind. The material underneath their feet right now seems familiar to what was all around the ground of the Land of Morytha. 

Brighid doesn’t respond immediately, because she got the same impression. Her and Mòrag are similar when it comes down to places like Elysium. To them, they are just that: dreams. At least, that is how they’d used to think. It is all very disconcerting.

Brighid may be a bit more forward, and maybe she lets her true feelings known a bit more openly than her Driver, but they both are used to the ways of the Ardainian military, of the strictness and gritty realness of politics that leaves little room to still hope. Yet, when they met Rex and the Aegis, the rest of their group…they allowed themselves to.

“Maybe we were,” Brighid replies. Their hands are still wrapped in an embrace, but they stand at arm’s length. They need to be in their own space as much as they need their connection to each other. “But were we so wrong to believe in the promise of somewhere that our people could live without worry?”

Mòrag’s eyes meet Brighid’s, for the first time since stepping foot in this place, and her Driver shakes her head. 

“No…we were not,” Mòrag’s voice is quiet and soft, a tone reserved for Brighid’s ears only. Brighid waits while Mòrag thinks about what she wants to say. “But…isn’t this what we were afraid of?”

She’s about to respond, but Mòrag turns back towards the open plain before continuing. “I know that we are not done here,” she sighs and shakes her head. “For once, we’d actually set out for something without a solid plan, facing the unknown, yet, this is what we happen upon…”

The others start moving again, and Brighid turns towards what looks eerily like the water tower that had been used against her in Torigoth, and holds Mòrag’s hand just a bit tighter.

“It’s far from what I expected, either,” Brighid says, and she’s having as much trouble as Mòrag, trying to organize everything in her head. “I do not know what I thought we would come across, but certainly, it was not this.”

Mòrag hums in agreement. “This here is proof that it must have existed, once before. All this land…it would be enough. But I do not think there is any saving this land, either.”

Rex notices something to the side as they come across an area that has several items that appear to be rather rusted, and Brighid has no idea what any of it could be. Rex touches what Pyra says was possibly a child’s vehicle, and it vanishes into thin air. 

“It must’ve been a grand old city,” Mòrag chimes into the conversation, and Brighid watches Mòrag’s body language and expression. “It stretches further than the eye can see…you could fit the entire population of Alrest into this place, with room to spare…”

No one says anything, and Brighid notes how Mòrag perfectly masked the doubts of their previous conversation.

Looking around, seeing what once was, that a civilization had succeeded in a place like this…Brighid wishes she could have seen it. If they had land like this, could they do something similar, something that would thrive? Or would it turn out exactly like this?

“We really could fit everyone here, couldn’t we?” Brighid says, as they walk towards more broken concrete and fallen architecture buried in years of dust. 

Mòrag turns her head down, placing her face down in her collar. “If there was anything left, indeed.”

Brighid turns, Mòrag's words and body language clicking the fragmented thoughts of her mind into place. As the others inspect this area with rusted poles, something that looks like it was used to sit on, and more broken slabs of white and dusted gray, she finally grasps onto one of the feelings in her mind that was fleeting.

It’s that she realizes she liked believing in Elysium—the prospect of chasing after something that had no proof to exist, the fact that if it did, they’d be the first one’s to see it? It was a break from the hard realities they’d become used to, and of course, nothing had been  _ easy  _ about getting here, but it was still  _ different.  _ It was fascinating. And Brighid knows Mòrag was beginning to feel the same: they were stronger than they’ve ever been and dare she say just a bit lighter. Though everything around her is telling her that it was, indeed, foolish, she does not want to listen. 

Maybe they listen just a bit too much, Brighid thinks. 

Now, she thinks she knows what to say. 

Brighid halts them in their steps; letting the others examine the nothingness even further as Mòrag lifts her eyes to Brighid's face.

“I know you cannot help but feel like you need to place the fate of those we care about, on our shoulders,” Brighid begins. “I must admit, I feel the same, in a way.”

Mòrag raises an eyebrow, but Brighid keeps going before her Driver can interject. “Lady Mòrag, we are a team. Of course, I know exactly where those thoughts of yours wander.”

“We let ourselves experience something we never would have otherwise. Maybe we can take this as proof we should not have. Though...it is easy to jump to conclusions.” She surprises even herself on what she lands on next. “I want to believe we are not at the end.”

Brighid does not know where those notions came from. It never takes her this long to explore her feelings: always the first to share, the first to let anyone and everyone know her point of view on any topic. Always a gritty realist, yet...something about them really had changed on this journey, hadn’t it? 

Mòrag’s expression softens, just a bit, but her shoulders are still tense. Brighid waits while her Driver searches for the words which frequently escape her.

“It is difficult to express, after everything we have been through. I find it troubling to come so far and find this…yet,” Mòrag trails off, looking far ahead as the others head towards a structure of architecture, white, covered in dust and falling apart, but the bell is louder here.

“Yet?” Brighid prompts, and Mòrag tilts her head just a bit higher, facing Brighid once again.

“I want to believe that, too,” Mòrag looks up to the sky. “Is that irrational?”

Brighid smiles—as much as she can, considering their surroundings—following Mòrag’s gaze. “No, Lady Mòrag, not at all. If anything…we’ve changed quite a bit through this journey, have we not?”

They both turn their heads to each other at the same time, and though there is still a bit of fear in Mòrag’s eyes, there’s still that sheer determination Brighid knows so well, and she’s sure that those emotions are reflected in her own expression.

“Brighid?” Mòrag whispers as they are about to reach the others, who have stopped in front of the building they were heading towards.

“Yes, Lady Mòrag?”

“Thank you,” is all that she says, but her soft tone and gentle squeeze of Brighid’s hand tell her all that she needs.

“We are in this together, don’t you forget that.” 

They’re not losing hope just yet. That building is beckoning them inside, and they’ll be no use if they just stood here. As they move towards the dark that lay behind the mysterious doors, Mòrag moves her eyes back towards Brighid, amber meeting hidden amethyst. They share a look, one that is only reserved for each other, and one that holds them together.

They go inside.

**Author's Note:**

> this was the hardest for me to write for some reason-I went over this way more than anything else I've written recently, so that might just be me getting more critical each time I read it - proofreading is my mortal enemy. along with titles. i had 20 terrible titles brainstormed. anyways!
> 
> hope you enjoyed! as always, constructive criticism, comments and kudos are appreciated! have a lovely day/evening/night/afternoon wherever you are!


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